Abort
by imlaughingnow
Summary: She had scheduled three abortions under fake names but missed them all. It's not like she missed them on purpose, but she just had things to do, people to take down, you know, the usual Emily Thorne stuff. Which was exactly why she couldn't have a baby screwing everything up. / In which Emily was pregnant and didn't want to be a mother.
1. Chapter 1

Just some short drabbles on Emily actually being pregnant. Holla.

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**Abort**

**Chapter 1**

Emily never wanted to have a baby. She knew the sacrifices she had to make years ago when she first decided to take down the Graysons. She knew she couldn't be a mother; she couldn't be a sister, a wife or even a friend. Not in the way that matters. She couldn't afford to have the luxuries of friendship or of love. She couldn't have any loose ends flying around.

Look what Amanda did to her. Look what Jack did to her. Look what Aiden did to her. Look how they took her off track, how they distracted her from her main goal. Look how many mistakes she made because of them, how many times she missed her exit and had to make a U-turn. Look how many times she had come close to watching her well-laid plans burn to ashes before her eyes. Look at how many times she got scorched in her own flames.

And now, look at what Daniel had done to her. Look at what late night sex with her alleged fiancé had done to her. It left her with a heavy rock on her finger and an erratic heartbeat (not only working for one but now for two). It wrecked her. Daniel had wrecked her. It was the perfect revenge, and if she didn't know him as well as she did, she would have thought he had planned it all out. That he planned to get her pregnant to trap her in their marriage, to prevent her from leaving with Aiden.

Aiden who had loved her on her worst of days. Aiden who she thought she could live with for the rest of her life and pretend nothing had ever hurt her. Where she could pretend to be anybody and do anything and everything she could think of. Where she could be the girl next door and make lemonade in her free time because she didn't have to scheme or blackmail someone into doing her will. He didn't only offer her a way out, he offered her a future. He gave her hope at a chance of being normal. And being normal was something she never had the chance of being. She went from juvie to the Hamptons, from pauper to princess but she was never just Amanda, the average teenaged girl. The average young woman struggling to find a job who would someday meet someone and fall in love. She would never smile and actually mean it without worrying about everything blowing up in her face. She would never drop her kids off to school or rush home after work to make dinner for her family.

Between her _never-never-never-will-I-ever's_ she held her breath. _Maybe it was Aiden's?_ And her spirits lifted for only a moment because she knew that Aiden wasn't the one she had been having rough sex with at nights to distract her conscious from the dirty things she had done. And while she had done Aiden (as well as have things done to her by Aiden) there was a stabbing guilt and hatred that came with the conception of this baby. An unconscious knowing, something she tried to bury behind her revenge. Something that looked a lot like late nights with Daniel.

Every bride to be dreams of bearing a child for the groom. Everyone except Emily Thorne of course. She never had a mother of her own, not one that stayed around to do things like brush her hair or take her to ballet, so how could she ever be one herself? She had a father, but he was taken away from her. And when she suffered the most, when she needed him the most, when she needed someone the most, all she had were her fading memories and a dirty pillow to soak up her salty tears.

She hated Conrad for framing her father and she hated Victoria even more for never stepping in to clear her father's name. She hated Daniel for ruining this for her. She hated him for being born into the Grayson family. She hated herself for never learning how to forgive or let go, for festering her ugly thoughts until she made them a reality. And if she hated Daniel and she hated herself, then she already hated everything about this baby.

It was why she couldn't keep it. Her. Him. Their thing.

Their baby.

No, their fetus. It was only a fetus. It wasn't a baby just yet.

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She had scheduled three abortions under fake names but she had missed them all. It's not like she missed them on purpose, but she just had things to do, people to take down, you know, the usual Emily Thorne stuff. Which was exactly why she couldn't have a baby screwing everything up. She couldn't have it inside of her, demanding extra food, demanding extra sleep, swelling her ankles and making her body ache in places that only ached after a brutal take down (that almost went sour but really didn't because she was Emily Thorne and nothing goes without her say).

So she drank an extra cup of coffee in the morning and went jogging for 30 additional minutes. She did jumping jacks in the shower, hoping she would accidentally slip and fall. Anything to get rid of it. Of him. Of her. It wasn't like she hadn't already committed murder…

Speaking of murder, how could she take anyone down with a baby? How could she creep through the dark or drag a dead body behind her with a giant 9 month bump sticking out from her stomach? She did everything she could think of, but she never bled.

So somehow she found herself blurting it out.

"I'm pregnant," was what she was thinking of saying. I'm pregnant and I can't get rid of it. Of you. I tried so hard but it won't let go.

I'm pregnant but I can't afford to love someone this much. I can't afford to have something remind me that I'm just a girl, a little damaged girl with a little damaged heart. I can't afford having someone depend on me twenty-four seven because one day I might not ever come back. I can't afford having something to come home to. I can't afford the risk. I can't afford this baby messing up my plans.

Poor little rich girl.

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**Just testing the waters here, but tell me what you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey again**

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**Abort**

**Chapter 2**

_bang bang bang_

And down she fell, Miss Emily Thorne, nee _Mrs. Grayson_ tumbled out and tumbled down, down, down the rabbit hole. She thought of nothing and no one but she found herself asking, _what about It? Will It be okay? _She never stopped falling and she never stopped repeating the questions, wondering when she would land and wake up from such a strange and useless dream. It was a dream, wasn't it? It had to have been a dream, right?

Daniel couldn't have shot her. He couldn't be the one who got to take this away from her. Not the very one who caused her to have It growing inside of her, not the one who forced her to make decisions she never thought she would have to make on her own. Not Daniel who tried to force her to become a mother, just like when had tried to force him to become a husband. Not Daniel who had her pacing the floor of her room at odd hours in the night because she could be a mother if she wanted to be one. Because she could be without child if she wanted to.

_What about It?_

_Will It be okay?_

She had been tortured, trained in tortured, tortured others, seen others get tortured yet nothing made her suffer as much as It did. Everything she did, every decision she made was now plagued with endless conflict. _But is this okay to do with It inside of me? Of course it's okay, I don't want It_. Nolan would give her worried glances whenever she tightened her jaw and clenched her fists but he never pushed her. _He would make a great uncle_, a voice would say. _It's too bad he'll never be one_, another voice will follow.

Her thoughts are swirling around her, a liquid mess. But she is chanting in her head, words she cannot place. It makes her skin buzz and her mind starts to reel with questions that sound strange as they zip through her consciousness. They make her open her eyes and bob to the surface. They make her gasp for air and press a hand to her womb. They make her choke on seawater as it turned a light shade of pink around her, staining her wedding dress, staining this day forever. Suddenly she's awake, and her blood is pumping through her veins at an alarming speed but she is awake, she's alive and she has a plan to follow.

_What about It?_

_Will It be okay?_

(She doesn't know it yet, but It just saved her life.)

She swims as best as she can, she tries to follow the plan as best as she can but she is still weak. It is weak. She's awake but she thinks she won't be awake (or alive) for much longer. Somehow, she had gotten exactly what she wanted. She wanted to get out of the Hamptons, she wanted to take down the Graysons, but most importantly she didn't want It. And lucky Emily Thorne managed to get everything she wanted all in one night. She's dying, so that's her escape, Daniel shot her (and she knows Aiden, Jack and Nolan will figure it out soon enough and avenge her death) and in shooting her in her stomach, Daniel probably killed It.

Yet she isn't smiling, she isn't at peace, she isn't satisfied. She is worried.

In what she thinks to be her last moments, she gives in and despite her best efforts, she cares. She cares about It. She cares about It almost more than she cares about taking down the Grayson family and that thought scares her more than anything.

As she is treading water, she remembers Amanda gasping for breath, the last person she had truly allowed herself to care about. She remembers her best friend reaching for her hand, clutching it tightly in her own cold ones, she remembers pain, hurt, anger and every other ugly feeling she hadn't allowed herself to fully feel since she was a little girl and they took her father away.

_What about It? _

_Will It be okay?_

The transmitter stops working and seawater isn't the only thing she is swimming in because tears saltier than the sea itself spring from her eyes. She is still applying pressure to her wounds with one hand and now holding unto a buoy for dear life with the other. Her vision is growing hazy and her bones are weighing her down just as much as her sorrow. She thinks soon she will sink to the bottom, her and It.

(She's not sure if she is happy to have someone with her in her last moments alive or if she is upset to be taking an innocent life down with her because all It has ever given her is conflict).

_What about It?_

_Will It be okay?_

She thinks she is imagining the boat when she sees its dim light reflecting off the dark, cold waters. It takes her a while but she finally makes it there. As she climbs unto the boat, she rips off her dress and covers herself with an old dirty fisherman blanket she finds nearby. She does it more to comfort It rather than to keep her warm. She ignores the primal instinct she has to protect something she thought she never wanted. She ignores the implications it has because right now, there is no future. There is no possibility of her becoming a mother, or her not becoming a mother. There is only her shallow breath and the sound of It crying somewhere inside of her. The sound of something crying inside of her.

She ignores the crimson tattoos on her stomach and closes her eyes, the sea falling from their corners. She let them roll down her cheeks and into the ocean. This was what she wanted, she wanted to be alone. She wanted to be without a baby, without anything linking them together. Without any evidence that she could have ever had feelings (past of present) for someone like Daniel, for someone with Grayson deceit and lies in his blood. She hates him, she thinks. She hates herself for ever wanting an innocent It to die. She hates herself for letting this happen, for letting Daniel get close enough to her to leave It inside of her.

She thinks she hates the baby too but she is still crying for It and the life It would never have. The life they would never have. She is dying, and it's only because she's dying she lets herself think about It; about what It would have looked like. Maybe It would have been blonde with round, glassy blue eyes and a small dimple in It's left cheek. Maybe It would have been a girl; she would have liked to call her Amanda. Not for the girl she used to be, but for the girl who died for an Emily Thorne they both created in a shared cell in juvie. For her best friend. The one whose life she stole, whose love she ruined, the one who died for her out in this very ocean. It seemed fitting that she would die here with Amanda too. They were the same person, be it Amanda Clarke or Emily Thorne. If It were a boy, she ventures, Carl would have had someone to play with. He would have Daniel's dark hair and her equally dark eyes. She thinks It would have been a killer when he got older.

She closes her eyes and sees both of them looking at her, It with her long blonde curls and It with his sad chestnut eyes. They're holding hands and they're holding unto hers.

"Please let go," she is begging them. But they both shake their heads. "Please, just let me go," she croaks again, _I can't be the person you want me to be. Please forgive me. Please let me die. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve to be a mother._

It and his sister gaze sadly down at Emily as she begs them to leave her alone. Doesn't she understand that they can't leave? Doesn't she understand that they don't want to leave?

"I'm sorry," Emily finally says.

It sniffles and her brother smiles softly, but they never let go of Emily's hand.

_._

Aiden is there. She has no idea how he got there or how long he's been there but he's here. He is kneeling next to her and whispering gravely into her ear but she can't see him. She can't feel him. She can only see It. Them.

She wonders if Aiden knows. If he can tell. If he understands just how much she wants to slip away. If he can see her melting before him, like wax until she is nothing but a warm mess that would soon harden over time once more. She wonders if he can tell It is there with them.

Aiden doesn't know, she realizes and she pulls a small smile. He thinks she lied, just like everybody else. Why would he think anything different? Emily Thorne is many things, but honest is not one of them.

It is looking at her; her little mouth is moving but Emily cannot understand what she is saying. It doesn't give up, and she pulls on her brother's hand when she realizes Emily can't hear her.

_My little secret_, she thinks. The only thing she has that nobody can ever take away from her now (not even Daniel).

"No," she hears Aiden say and this time when she closes her eyes, she doesn't reopen them.

So down down down Emily Thorne, nee Grayson fell. Her eyes shut heavily and her breaths stilled, but her hand never fell from her womb. This time when she fell down the rabbit hole, she thought she heard something calling her name.

A child.

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**it's like emily in wonderland ya feel me**


	3. Chapter 3

**I changed it**

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**Abort**

**Chapter 3**

When Emily is finally out of surgery, the doctor comes rushing to his side. She mistakes his fear for worry about his bride. She mistakes his shaking hands for love. But most importantly, she mistakes his wrinkled forehead for concern and she pats him on the arm gingerly. As she touches him, Daniel can feel his regret sinking down his body and shackling him to the ground, chaining him forever.

"You're lucky," is the first thing she says and Daniel can't help but agree. He was lucky he wasn't locked away in jail. He was lucky Emily wasn't really pregnant. He was lucky his mother kept her mouth shut long enough for him to be able to hear about Emily's surgery. He was lucky Emily survived at all. He was always lucky ol' Dan to his friends. But he thinks if he was really lucky, he would have been born into another family. Maybe he wouldn't have turned into the kind of man who tries to kill his fiancée. The kind of man that spends his time mulling over another woman on his wedding day. The kind of man his father would have been proud of.

He can barely muddle through his thoughts in a comprehensive manner. But still, he can register his mother's glowering gaze, his sister's lower lip trembling, and the way his father narrows his eyes in concentration. His father isn't scrutinizing him, but he is assessing the doctor, determining if he considers her overqualified enough to treat the woman carrying his grandchild.

"She's a very strong woman," the doctor continues and Daniel can see his mother's lips purse together tightly in something akin to disgust. "Emily lost a lot of blood but she's going to live." The doctor is expecting them to breakout into tears of joy, to start hugging each other, to do _something_ at least. She has been working this hospital long enough to know what a near death experience looks like and what the patient's family's reactions are supposed to be. She feels a twinge of sorrow for the young Emily Thor-Grayson. It seemed that while she married into a family, she would always remain orphan Emily. "She suffered a cranial injury from the impact of the water resulting in bleeding in the parietal lobe, but she will be fine, she will live."

Instead, only Charlotte brings a hand to her mouth and gasps, tears leaking out of her eyes at an alarming rate. She hiccups into her hand and Daniel glares at his little sister. He hates the way she could love so easily. He hates the way he had lost the ability to truly love. Victoria bares a cold smile, showing her edged teeth and Conrad nods his head, running a tired hand through his hair. Daniel's father had actually liked Emily Thorne, perhaps for the very reason he had fallen in love with Victoria. The husband of a mere few hours blinks a few times then looks at the doctor blankly.

"What about the baby?" Charlotte jumps out of her seat to ask.

Daniel winces at the sound of the B-word. His drunken anger had faded and he was nothing but a little boy who had done something he wasn't supposed to. Who had heard something he wasn't supposed to. Who had hurt someone he was never supposed to hurt. And he was sitting in the darkest corners of his mind, waiting until someone came with the accusing finger, the proof, the gun and the shiny handcuffs. Daniel it seems, hurts the people he claims to love, in the worst ways. He thinks of how many times he spent his afternoons with his head in his mother's lap as a young boy, about how his father chuckled when he wore his first tie as crooked as Charlotte's bottom row of baby teeth when he was eight. He thinks about Sara and the accident, and about how easily she let herself love him. And now Emily and how easily she had let _him_ love her. Emily and the rage, the hurt and the way he hated her for making him love her.

The doctor says something he can't remember before pulling him away from his family. He couldn't walk away himself, not with the chains around his ankles. Emily used to be the one to lead him away from his family, now he had to rely on strangers.

"Your wife is a strong woman, Mr. Grayson and strong women can only make strong babies. You're going to be a father. It is a miracle but the bullets went right through her. Maybe because the baby is so small, only a few weeks old, maybe that's how it survived…" The woman stammers over her explanations, eyes wide with disbelief. "It's a miracle," she repeats again. "I've never seen this before in all my years of work."

Daniel takes a step back and exchanges a side long glance with his mother before asking, "so the baby is fine?" his voice cracking. He spoke slowly, eyebrows furrowed and head searing into a furious headache. (He thinks he deserves it. He thinks he deserves so much worse than he ends up getting.) He blinks and the doctor is gone; he is hearing Emily and his mother. "Faked the pregnancy," he heard it. He knows he heard it. His mother was gloating too, finally happy her suspicions were confirmed. So Emily must have been telling the truth when she said she wasn't pregnant, right? He can feel the yacht swaying upon the water, left-right, left-right. He can see Emily in her wedding dress, her eyes darker than he has ever seen them before. He blinks again and the doctor is standing in front of him, her eyes wrinkled in concern that she will not voice.

"You're going to be a father, Mr. Grayson," she pats him once more on his shoulder in out of sympathy more than anything else, before scurrying away leaving him chained to the past and his mistakes.

His chest is sounding all sorts of alarms and he feels something he hasn't really felt in a long time. Guilt. He often does many things he regrets, but it isn't often he feels badly about doing them. It isn't often he takes responsibility for his actions. But Emily always held him accountable, so he tried as hard as he could to sew himself back together, no matter how crudely. He could only do his best when standing next to a woman like Emily Thorne. With everyone else, it came effortlessly but he felt her examining him sometimes, probing him with questioning eyes and deep gazes until she found the answers she needed. It used to worry him how she never seemed satisfied. Sure, she smiled and held his hand but he could feel the underbelly of her disapproval growing between them.

"Daniel," his mother drawls out, her eyebrows arched and her spine straight as a board, "is everything okay?"

"How's the baby?" Charlotte prompts again, ignoring their mother. Conrad shakes his head but still inches closer, his hands now hidden deeply into his pockets.

"It's fine," he chokes out. His mother's eyes widen in surprise and she turns her head. (Her nails are digging palms, forcing herself not to care. Emily Throne was- _is_ a liar. She said on the boat she faked the pregnancy, yet here was the doctor telling Daniel he was going to be a father. And while Emily Throne (never Grayson) is a liar, she is also carrying a part of her son inside of her, not only her son but a piece of Victoria and Conrad as well, no matter how small.)

"Daniel that's great news!" Charlotte launches herself at her older brother and wrapped her arms around his lifeless frame. "I'm so happy for you."

"I'm going to be a father," he sobs into his sister's shoulder.

His eyes are closed and his sister is rubbing circles into his back and he is on the boat again. The first thing Emily does is look down at her stomach before she looks back up at him. It's one of those moments he used to love, when she stops pretending, when she stops acting; when he can read everything about her as easily as he would like. She doesn't look hurt. She doesn't look betrayed (not like he did anyway). She doesn't look confused, (maybe because she always knew one day he would rip his stitches out and make a bloody mess of them both). She looks worried. She is gasping, slowly mouthing words he deciphers easily. He wants to know her last words. She has one hand flailing about her and the other rests on her abdomen. To stop the bleeding, Daniel remembers thinking.

"I'm sorry baby," she mouths and Daniel remembers gritting his teeth at the way Emily still thought she could call him baby. Gritting his teeth at the sight of his wife bleeding in her wedding dress, not even a day old. Gritting his teeth at the way his stomach lurches because he isn't sure if to run to her and hold her in his arms or if to watch her fall down down down and out of his life.

Charlotte pulls away from the hug and gazes up at her brother, her smile growing smaller and smaller as she notices his expression. "Danny, are you okay?" She asks lowly, almost as if she's afraid to hear the answer. Daniel's eyes are still closed. He is on the boat again and he sees himself shooting the woman whom he, only a summer ago, claimed to be his soul-mate. He sees her rubbing her abdomen as she cries out large apologetic tears, "I'm sorry baby," he sees her tell their baby.

And _down down down_ Daniel Grayson fell, he tumbled over his feet and smacked his lovely cheekbone against the cold, hard tiled floors. He wondered if this was how Emily felt when he shot her. When he tried to kill her and their baby.

He wondered if he could ever hurt himself as much as he had hurt her.

"How is this possible?" He heard his mother say.

(He got his wish; he didn't turn out like his father. Instead, he turned into something much worse.)

down down down he tumbled, wishing he could stay in the darkness forever

(because at least he didn't try to kill his own baby down there, right?)

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**you think after shooting someone you just married, you would feel a little bad about it after...**

**that was hard idk**


	4. Chapter 4

**Still changing things up**

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**Abort**

**Chapter 4**

He remembers when they first met, when she found him, because it was always Emily that found him. He could never find her when he needed her, and it made him snort considering the fact that she had lied about everything. His stomach flipped and his skin tingled with a want he had never experienced before. Soon the want turned into a need when she smiled and the sun's rays caught her blonde hair and her white summer dress skirted around them in the sea breeze. Every move she made was calculated, planned.

But he remembers the way she held his hand under the table at Grayson Manor when his shoulders tensed at his mother's presence. He remembers the way she liked to make him lunch on the weekends, how she learned his favourite dish and made it until he couldn't stand the taste of it anymore. He remembers the secret smiles she would give him over her champagne glass as he was forced to socialize with empty business suits and equally vapid low-cut dresses. (Emily never revealed too much of herself, not even through the clothes she wore. She was always moderately dressed. Always covering herself with a shawl or a cardigan.) He remembers the way her eyes lit up when he went down on one knee for the first time and the way she squealed. It was the first time he thinks he had actually seen her, the real Emily Thorne. The one without the practiced words and the perfectly styled hair.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open slightly. Her eyes crinkled when she smiled and she squealed something only she could understand and squeezed his hand tightly. He remembers his hand stinging with pain after, surprised at her strength. He remembers her rocking back on her heels with the widest smile as she gleamed down at him. He had looked into her eyes and for once, he thought he could have deciphered all of her feelings. He could have asked her any question and seen the answer in the crinkle of her eyes, in the upturn of her lips and the tilt of her head.

"Will you marry me?" He asks and Emily sucks in a deep breath. She opens her mouth, lips puckered and ready to say, _yes, yes yes_. She is breathless, she is excited, her hair is messy and her dress is ruined from raindrops despite the large umbrella that covers them. She is wild, she is a mess, she is a stranger and he thinks this is the most beautiful he has ever seen her.

Then she flips a switch and he is Emily Thorne again. She is controlled, subdued, soft-spoken. She is careful, intricate and calculatingly cold. "Yes," she says sweetly and Daniel can't help but pull her into a kiss the second the ring is on her finger. She is the same Emily but there is something else he finds in that kiss, something strange, something new, something encased with a tinge of sorrow. Something he is excited to discover. And as easily as he catches it, it slips away and Emily is smiling serenely at him and then back down at the ring on her slender finger.

He wonders if those few seconds with Emily, were just that; seconds with Emily. Not the person she tried to portray herself as. Not the person she liked to pretend to be. He wonders if he had married her then and there, if they had gone through with the wedding, if he would have seen her again like that. If eventually she would get tired of holding him at a safe distance and let him come close enough to show her she would never have to doubt him, have to lie and pretend to be someone poised and elegant when she was with him.

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It's been three days and Emily hasn't done so much as flutter her eyes. Daniel tries not to go inside of her room, he isn't sure she would want him there when she wakes up. (He is pretty sure the first thing she would do is file for divorce the second she opens her eyes). Instead he stands outside and looks at her through the blinds. But he never lasts more than ten minutes. _It's the grief_, the nurses whisper to each other. _It's the guilt_, others respond.

The police had questioned him, some with narrowed eyes and others with their regards to his wife. Both parties would observe his distance and the frequency of his heavily ladled sighs. They would note the way his shoulders sagged and the way he hadn't bothered to shave or brush his hair into place. They would notice his wrinkled wife beater and the old running shoes he wore before they dismissed him. _I'm sorry this had to happen_, they said. _Good luck with the baby_, they said. _I'll be praying for your family_, they said. We're gonna get this guy, is what nobody had ventured to promise (because they knew there wasn't enough evidence on the boat to convict someone, so until Emily woke up, they would always be running in circles).

"Why did she lie to me about it?" His mother asks cautiously when he had returned from the hospital. He liked to visit Emily in the wee hours of the morning (the nurses didn't have the heart to turn him away until visiting hours resumed).

"If you hadn't confronted her, she wouldn't have lied," Daniel sneers at his mother, whose face hardens. She knew it was coming, she expected it. Daniel had never been one to take responsibility for his own actions. Even as a child he had relied on his mother to clean up after him, he relied on his father, on his nanny, on the cook. "If you hadn't threatened her, she wouldn't have been afraid to-"

"Make no mistake Daniel, I may have compelled her to lie but I am not the one that shot her twice at point-blank range." His mother squares her shoulders, ready for a fight.

"I know," his voice cracked, "I-I…" her heart softens for a moment, "I'm sorry, I just…" He hangs his head lowly and grips his coffee mug tightly as he leans against the granite counter.

"Interesting how quickly you decided to overlook the trauma she has caused this family," Victoria Grayson arches her eyebrow pointed and takes a delicate sip of her tea. Conrad and Charlotte are still sleeping. They were always late sleepers. Always out of the loop, always one step behind.

"I almost killed her-"

"You almost killed that waitress of yours too, but you never-"

"But she wasn't pregnant with my child when that happened, was she?" He counters sharply and Victoria purses her lips because she knows how to choose her battles. "Don't bring Sarah into this," he warns even though he hasn't spared Sarah a thought after finding out about the baby. She's in the hospital, he thinks, or maybe she was released. He's not sure. But he thinks it's best if he stays away from both of them. Sarah who tried to take her life when she heard he was getting married, and Emily whose life he tried to take.

He loves them for different reasons. Sarah because she loved him first. How could he not love her in return? After she had forgiven him for trying to kill her, after she had welcomed him back into her life? He loved her because she reminded him of Emily, the Emily he saw the night he proposed. It was bad, awful even, but he did it anyway, just like he did it to Ashley. He loved Sarah for not being Emily just as much as he hated her for not being Emily. Nothing was ever as good as Emily Thorne was.

"You still care about that one?" His mother asks condescendingly, but it seemed she already knew the answer. "No wonder Emily lied about the baby."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her son takes the bait. She knows him well.

"If you weren't sleeping around maybe then Emily wouldn't have lied about faking a pregnancy."

Daniel glares, his blood swooshing through his ears loudly, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Maybe she didn't want to spend the rest of her life with someone who didn't want to be with her." Daniel is still not convinced, so she puts down her teacup and sighs exasperatedly, "are you really that daft Daniel? Maybe she said she faked the pregnancy knowing you would find out."

"And why would she do that?"

"To have an excuse to get rid of it, of course," when Daniel doesn't respond Victoria smiles, basking in her victory. "And though you tried, you apparently didn't give her exactly what she wanted. An ongoing pattern it seems." Indeed, Victoria Grayson knows exactly how to pick her battles. "On that note, do you think Emily Thorne will ever let you see that child? After all you've done?"

"It's a Grayson. It's mine. I have rights."

"The judge won't even hear your case before he grants her sole custody. No money can pay off that judge. Not when you're going up against Emily Thorne; the woman in the hospital fighting, not only for her life, but the life of an unborn child. How naïve of you to believe you could raise a child whose mother you tried to kill. A child who _you_ tried to kill." She feels bad for him, she really does but he betrayed her so many times. Her own flesh and blood had failed her. Had rejected her. She doesn't know how to do anything other than hurt those around her at this point, she has to protect herself. "But don't worry, at least you still have a waitress to come home to every night."

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Charlotte is the only one that stays with Emily. She sits next to her and holds her hands, she smooths her hair back into place, admiring the wild curls that appear. Sometimes she brings Jane Austen with her and reads it aloud, simply because the main character reminds her of Emily. Once she had even sneaked nail polish into the room and painted Emily's nails in a neutral pink she thinks Emily would love. She tries to do other things she thinks Emily would like, but it is then she realizes how little knows about her. It has almost been seven days now, and she is afraid of coming here with nothing do to and nothing to say. She's afraid Emily will never wake up, no matter how many times she comes by.

"The police are still trying to find your attacker," she starts and immediately regrets bringing up the incident, even if Emily is awake or not. She takes a deep breath and tries again, "Emily, I know that you've been through a lot and I know I haven't exactly made it easy for you during the last few weeks, so I wanted to apologize." It's easier to apologize when Emily never stirs, "The truth is I feel like you're the only person I can trust. My parents, they always have a secret agenda and even Daniel sometimes ignores my calls but you were always there to give me advice with Declan," she pauses, "you let me live with you when I couldn't stand being at home and made me lunch and took me shopping. You visited me in rehab when everybody else was too embarrassed. And I just…I just don't want you to leave me here alone." Charlotte pulls her hands out of Emily's and gently places the blonde's hands over the woman's womb, "I know it's selfish but please think about coming back. If not for me, then for my niece or nephew."

Charlotte doesn't say a word for the rest of the day as she sits beside her sister-in-law. Instead she tries to remember what it was like living with Emily. She tries to remember little things, little details; like her favourite coffee mug or the way she likes her eggs. She tries to remember the books she's seen lying around and the fresh flowers Emily always had in the kitchen but draws a blank. Nothing was ever consistent. Emily was always changing things, the flowers she brought home, the cups of she used in the morning, the shade of lipstick she wore. Charlotte knew nothing about her.

When visiting hours are over, Charlotte picks up her bag and moves her chair back into place. She gives Emily one last lingering look before leaving the room and shutting the door tightly behind her.

When Emily wakes up, she'll make things right is what she tells herself when she leaves.

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**Time lapse, ya?**


	5. Chapter 5

**let's do this**

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**Abort**

**Chapter 5**

Nolan has been pacing around his bedroom for ten days straight. All the TVs in his house are on different news channels, all covering Emily's story. She's been shot; twice. Emily's actually been shot. And this time she can't help herself, she can't recover, she can't do anything. She can't move, she can't walk, she can't do more than breathe in that hospital bed.

_When will Emily wake up_, is all the news anchors ask. _When will she wake up and give us some answers? Will she ever wake up_, others respond. _Who would do this?_

Nolan wishes they would stop with the questions. He is usually the one who asks them and Emily is usually the one who answers them. And now that she is still unconscious in the hospital, Nolan doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know who to blame, he doesn't know where to start looking for answers. He doesn't know if he wants to. He was never that good at planning revenge. Emily was the brains behind these operations, he was just her sidekick.

Aiden had immediately sought out Margaux and gotten a copy of the pictures from that night but everyone seemed to be accounted for except Victoria (who he knows couldn't have done it because he was the one that took her in the first place). Nolan had hacked into Margaux's laptop and he had pressured Jack into asking her for more information, but Margaux shrugged her shoulders in surrender because she didn't have any more information. Nolan didn't know if to believe her or not, especially since he knew Victoria paid her a visit before any of them had come to their senses long enough to think of asking Margaux for the pictures.

Jack thought she was telling the truth. Aiden thought she was lying. Nolan didn't know what to think or who to trust without Emily around.

All he knows is that he isn't wasting time being angry, he hires five of his best members of his security team and stations them around the hospital and around Emily's room. He makes sure he can protect her as best as he can. And until Emily wakes up, he spends every day pacing the floor, watching the hospital feed.

He doesn't bother to ask what Aiden and Jack are always meeting up to talk about, he doesn't bother to ask about what they plan on doing with their anger and who they plan on hurting (killing really), instead he focuses his attention on Emily. Because while everyone is always running around to avenge Emily, Emily herself was left alone in a large hospital room with nobody but Charlotte and Nolan looking out for her.

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Nolan has finally managed to find a nurse the Graysons haven't paid off. After eleven days he is finally going to see Emily in person, whether the Graysons like it or not. He is tired of pacing back and forth in his apartment, switching from camera to camera trying to get see if there was any activity in Emily's room. The pixel Emily on his monitor was grainy, and he never got to see her properly, just glimpses inside of her room when the nurses, doctors or anyone else went in or out. He has read her medical chart scans enough to know her condition by heart. He knows she hasn't woken up yet, he knows she has a lot of brain activity, he knows she's not a vegetable, he knows she's not in a coma. She's just unconscious, treading the dark waters somewhere deep inside of her mind. When she came out of juvie, he was able to pull her out of that dark place, and he hopes he can do it again.

Now that he is in the hospital, his palms are sweating. He wears his favourite polo, (the one he thinks Emily will laugh at the most when she sees it). The nurse nods her head swiftly when he walks by, confirming that Charlotte has already left for the day and won't be back until tomorrow. Charlotte doesn't know it, but Nolan breaks into a wide smile every time he sees her on the live cams because at least Emily has someone that genuinely cares about her staying with her when he can't. She may be in enemy territory, but at least she has Charlotte.

He doesn't tell Aiden what he's doing. Aiden has already snuck into the hospital three times and tried to wake her up. Every time he returned sulky and snappish, barking at Nolan whenever he asks questions. He needed to do this for himself, he needed to see her alone. He didn't need Aiden and his wounded heart and his nasty comments. He didn't need this to be about Aiden and Emily. He didn't need Aiden trying to keep all Emily had left of herself in that hospital bed, for himself. Nolan may not have known her for the longest, Jack got that, but Nolan did know her best. And that is why Nolan decides to tell Aiden and Jack he has a business meeting. (He's not stupid, he has seen Aiden and Keiko. More importantly it has only been ten days and Aiden is already sleeping around. He wonders if Emily will ever find someone to spend the rest of her life with, someone who loves her as much as her father did, as much as he does, as much as family should love family.)

He slips into the room unnoticed and closes the door behind him. The blinds are already closed and he makes a note to give the nurse a promotion for thinking that far ahead. After all, he does basically own this hospital. The small smile dissipates when he hears the machines tinkering away. The lights pulsate every odd second and the machines beep obnoxiously. They are the things keeping track of her and keeping her out of trouble now, not him. He can't do anything else for her. His eyes travel across the machinery first, making sure that they are the latest models, that they're working the way they're supposed to, that the readings match up those on her medical chart.

They say she is eight weeks long now. Nolan doesn't know if Emily or the Graysons had paid them to keep the fake pregnancy hush-hush or if Emily is actually carrying a small human being inside of her. Nolan actually doesn't care. What he cares about is seeing her, making sure she is okay. He doesn't tell Aiden about the real or not-so-real baby. He doesn't need him losing control. He is already a (cheating) mess. But Nolan can't point the fingers at Aiden, not after Emily was with Daniel for the entire duration of her relationship with Aiden.

He's stalling, he knows. He's moving his gaze analyzing every inch of the room because he is afraid of what he might see when he looks at her.

When he sees her, he can't place her face. Her eyes are closed, and she has a small smile creeping on her face. She doesn't sleep like Emily usually sleeps and this worries him. Emily sleeps with her eyes screwed shut and her lips drawn into a tight line with furrowed eyebrows. She is a tense sleeper; always on alert. Nolan knows that she keeps a gun under her pillow, he knows she always likes to be prepared for an ambush or a takedown. But this Emily sleeps as if she does not fear for her life. She sleeps as if she has nothing and no-one to fear. She sleeps like a princess, with her hair flowing around her. She is a calm, innocent sleeping beauty.

"Ems…?" He croaks, never finding the courage to walk to the bed.

She doesn't respond. (He didn't expect her to.)

"Amanda…?" He ventures again, this time softer, gentler. He tries to match his tone to the face she is making while she sleeps. (He swears he sees her smile wider.)

"Amanda I know you want your life back," Nolan starts weakly, "I mean, who wouldn't after spending your entire adult life pretending to be someone else; but you can't." Nolan runs a weary hand over his eyes, "I don't think you'd like it here." His gaze shifts to the blonde's abdomen and Nolan sucks in a deep breath, he's not sure what they could ever do if there was a mini-Emily growing inside of her. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks suddenly, "I know I just assumed you made it up, but why didn't you correct me? I wouldn't have told anyone, you know that."

His shoulders slump when he thinks about what a baby would actually mean. Regardless if the baby was Aiden's or Daniel's, it wouldn't matter now that she is officially a Grayson. Everything that belonged to her also belonged to Daniel, including the real or not-so-real baby. Emily would never be able to escape, Aiden would probably go crazy trying to takedown the Graysons, in doing so creating a really awful picture for Emily's innocence. And it's not like he could ever get her out of the country, not with her face plastered across every TV in America. Not with the security Daniel will ensure she have until the a healthy Grayson baby is born. Then there's Jack and his already wounded heart. The Revenge-enda would never be complete. Not with Emily lugging around 30 extra pounds of baby.

"I don't know how we're going to get out of this one, Ems," he admits, still staring at her stomach blankly. "I-I don't know what to do…" Someone taps lightly on the glass window twice and Nolan knows he has to go. As he pulls himself out of Charlotte's chair, he thinks maybe Emily didn't know what to do either, maybe that's why she never told anyone she was actually pregnant. Maybe that was why she wanted to leave as badly as she did then, maybe that's why she stuck to Jack's deadline. And like every other secret he carried for Amanda Clarke, he pocketed it in his jacket where nobody would ever find it and slips out of the room.

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**some of da other kids.**

**(also, some reviews would be nice; come one now be nice to me)**


	6. Chapter 6

**yup**

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**Abort**

**Chapter 6**

Victoria never asks Daniel why he shot Emily. She thinks she should, she thinks she should be the kind of woman mothers are supposed to be. She thinks she should pull him into a hug and rub his back. But Daniel is no longer her little boy, Daniel is now a man. And one made in the very image of his parents. So instead she drinks an extra glass of wine before bed, not because her son has turned into the kind of man that shoots his wife on his wedding day (even if said wife happens to be Emily Thorne), but because it was in his blood. Because there was no way out for him; her son never had a chance of becoming a good man. So she will drink to that, because fifty per cent of her son is made up of her mistakes and her faults; this is her fault. She failed him as a mother.

Victoria is lounging in the sitting room, her legs crossed at the ankles and her jewelry heavy around her neck as they gleam under the dimmed chandelier lights. The house is dark, and while it is filled with family heirlooms and exquisite art pieces and sculptures, it is empty. Nobody moves, nobody makes a sound except for the staff. They are the only ones that breathe life into this house. There is a light coming from the hallway upstairs and Victoria knows it is from Charlotte. The staff breathes life and Charlotte is the only source of light they have. That is how it always was and that is how it always will be.

Conrad observes his wife on his way to the kitchen, he prefers to make his coffee in the night rather than have the staff clatter around the place and disturb the peace. He likes the quiet, he likes to drink coffee and re-read the morning paper on the darkest of nights. So that is what he is doing until he sees Victoria perfectly poised in the dark, slowly sipping from her crystal wine glass.

"Victoria?" it is a question, but he is not too concerned about the answer he will receive. Yet countless years of marriage cannot stop him from knowing when she is truly upset and countless years of marriage cannot stop his feet from walking over to her.

"Conrad," she acknowledges him; that's as far as they can go now. That's as good as it gets for them now (their younger selves would have been so disappointed). They are at a standstill, him not willing to admit he came to inquire about her well-being and her not willing to open up to him until she clears her throat, "why do you think he did it?"

They both know who she's talking about. He is currently in the west wing of the estate, doing whatever her does when he is alone. Maybe emptying another bottle of whisky, maybe with his waitress or maybe he will surprise them both by having an early night. What she really means to ask is, did we really raise a murderer? But she refrains, because Daniel is still her son, no matter if his flaring anger sometimes sets her off. (She would have liked to say he got that from his father, but the only time Conrad had ever laid a hand on her was when he helped her frame Gordon Murphy for her "kidnapping".)

"Isn't it obvious?" Conrad asks, his eyebrows shooting far into his forehead. "He loves her," he says simply then, then turns to head back into the kitchen.

"Have you forgotten he shot her twice after cheating on her with that waitress?" She refuses to believe her son could have ever loved Emily Thorne. She refuses to believe that he would love someone as much as everyone claims he did.

Conrad tilts his head to the side and she sees Daniel's eyes are looking back at her, "the only thing he loved more than Emily Thorne was the baby she claimed she was never going to have. You were too blinded by your hate towards her that you never saw her for what she truly was: Daniel's chance of salvation."

When he leaves, Victoria thinks she needs another drink.

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It is only the seventh time Daniel has visited Emily in the last fifteen days of her hospitalization. He always makes a point of going when nobody else is around. Visiting hours are over, but the nurses let him stand outside of her room and peer in at her anyway. He's sure they would let him go inside as well, but he is afraid. He's afraid of what else he might end up doing. He digs his hands deeper into his pockets and inches closer, narrowing his eyes as he watches Emily's sleeping figure. She's still sleeping; she is always sleeping and he's not sure if he wants her to wake up. He's not sure what he will do once she wakes up, he's not sure he could ever look at her the same way again.

Not with Tyler's old accusations running through his head. Not after he had blindly trusted her, not after he had chased after her so many times, his heart in his hands until he secured it in her. Not when he had ignored his mother so he could spend his days holding her close and imagining her waking up next to him every morning for the rest of his life. Not when he put his everything into loving her. Not when he had shot Tyler and Aiden because they challenged the image of love, of purity, of innocence and of hope that he had made out of Emily Thorne. Everyone tried to warn him, they tried to tell him to stay away from her but he fought them. He shot them. He framed them for murder. He grew to hate them because in his mind, nothing and nobody would ever be as important to him as Emily Thorne.

The first time they met, she was in white and he thinks it was a sign. He thinks she is the most innocent thing he has ever met. He thinks she is the most pure thing he has ever held in his hands, and he decides he never wants to be without that wholesomeness in his life ever again. He thinks the more time he spends with her, the more she washes him clean. The more time he spends with her, the more he recognizes her as what she really is: hope. She is his future. And when he loses her, he falls levels below and slips on his old skin until he is the person he was before he ever knew what innocence looked like. He spins out of control until he gets her attention and she comes running back to him with open arms and she bandages his wounds and kisses him until he feels clean again.

He thinks he had a way out with her. And for a while, he did. For a while things are perfect and while he has made a few stupid mistakes, she has always forgiven him with a smile and a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. In the mornings he would wait until she would wake up, and she would jump in his arms when she sees his bright blue eyes twinkling at him.

"Why are you so surprised?" He would ask, a cheeky grin covering his face.

"I just never thought you'd be an early riser," stifles a yawn.

"I'm not; I just like to see you sleep," Daniel shrugs and smiles as she snuggles deeper into his arms.

That was what they did, that was who they were until that was who they weren't anymore. Until she started forcing his smiles and he started doing things like blackmailing NolCorp out of her best friend's hands. Until she became evasive and he began to do things like shoot her romantic partners because he was jealous, until he began to sleep with her best friend, until he tried to sleep with everyone and everything she touched because he tried to get as much of her as he could. Until she was no longer as pure as he thought she was. Until he saw Sarah and saw something he used to see in Emily and pursued her. Until she stopped responding to his mother's comments with a condescending smile but started giving terse replies. Until she changed and he changed and they hurt each other in the worst of places.

He wonders if he is to blame. If he took everything that made her beautiful and just sucked it out of her spirit and rubbed it into his skin, hoping it would sink in. He wonders if she had poured herself into trying to make him a better man until she became tired, until she became weary, until she became empty. He wonders if maybe he rubbed off on her instead, that he tried so hard to hold unto the only pure thing in this world that he tainted her, until he made her one of them.

He replays the boat scene over and over again when he sees her. While his mother had accused her of many things, of targeting him, of manipulating him; Emily doesn't say a word. She is silent. The only thing she admits is faking the pregnancy. She was lying, again. Always so secretive, always locking something away inside of her, somewhere she could only reach in to pull it out of her.

He doesn't know what to do anymore. He doesn't know what to think anymore. He doesn't know what to make of everyone's accusations. He doesn't know what to do with Tyler's last warnings, with Emily's infidelity, with Aiden, with Sarah, with his mother's accusations; he doesn't know what to do about the fact that she denied everything his mother accused her of, except of faking the pregnancy. He doesn't know why she lied to his mother, why she pretended the baby inside of her didn't exist. Maybe his mother as right, maybe she wanted to get rid of it; maybe she wanted to get rid of him. Maybe she doesn't love him anymore; if she didn't before, he thinks she certainly does now. And she will when she wakes up.

It scares him to know that the second Emily opens her eyes she'll look at him and see a monster. It scares him even more to know that when she wakes up, she will wake up without her love (not that he will blame her) and she will look at him as if he never mattered to her at all. That scares him more than being charged for murder.

He's not sure if he loves her or if he hates her. But he's sure at this point, it won't matter; not after what he's done.

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"You can go inside for a few minutes if you want," a young nurse nods her head to the door and Daniel jumps at the sound of her voice. "I didn't mean to startle you," she apologizes. Her brown eyes look up at him expectantly and he doesn't have the heart to tell her he prefers to stay outside. "When she wakes up, I'm sure she'd want to see you," the nurse adds.

"What if she never wakes up?" He asks, uncertainty lacing his every word.

The nurse looks at him sharply, "trust me, she'll wake up."

"But how do you know?"

"A nurse knows what she knows, now go in. They say the more the loved ones come to talk to unconscious patients, the more compelled the spirit will be to wake them up," she's probably only a few years older than Daniel himself but her words are aged, they are wise, they are hushed secrets passed on from father to child, so he does as he is told and for the first time since Emily has been hospitalized, he goes to see her face to face.

She's pale; ashen almost. She's frail. Her hair is wild, it's curling and Daniel thinks he has never seen them so unruly in his life. He thinks he would have smiled if he could have. He thinks he would have gently tugged on a curl and she would have opened her eyes and bat her eyelashes playfully at him in another time. He thinks he would have kissed her pouty lips and she would have smiled serenely at him. Instead the machines around her beep monotonously.

He sucks in a deep breath and tries to stay calm but he is panicking. He's afraid. He's afraid he will hurt her even more than he already has. He's afraid of what he can do, of what he could do, of what he will do. He has already hurt her so much, and in return she poached his heart.

"Emily, when you wake up you're going to hate me," he says. He's not sure if it makes a difference, she is unconscious, she is asleep. She doesn't want to wake up, he thinks, and maybe she shouldn't. She's safer here than she has ever been with him. The baby is safer here than it will ever be with him. He looks at her hospital gown, glad it is covering her stomach, glad he can't see the stitches and the skin abrasions. He puts his hand over her stomach and feels the bandages underneath her gown and almost pulls his hand away, "I'm sorry baby," he repeats her last words, "I hope you can learn to forgive me someday," at the last minute, he quickly adds, "your daddy is very very sorry, he's kind of an idiot," before he brings his hand to his side.

His heart is pounding because Emily can hear him, and she's probably shrinking away from his touch in the inside, she's probably yelling at him to get away from her, from the baby, she's probably terrified, or maybe she's glaring at him, threatening him; he doesn't know. But he does know that she isn't taking this baby away from him. It is the only good thing he has left and he won't let anyone take it away. He doesn't know how he's going to raise a baby whose mother he tried to kill, but he can't let anyone take away the last bit of hope he has left.

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**Daniel and his conflicts **

**idk man (but i do know i like when you guys review, thanks for da love + keep it up)**


	7. Chapter 7

**oops**

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**Abort**

**Chapter 7**

On her seventeenth day, Emily opens her eyes. It happens suddenly, it happens slowly. Charlotte is mid-sentence, rambling about what it would be like to spend her days with Carl and her niece or nephew. She is telling Emily about how much she would have liked to have had Declan's child, she's telling her personal things she never had the courage to write down in her journal for fear of her mother reading it and confronting her. Things she never had the courage to think about for too long. She is talking about how much she misses Declan and how she would have liked for her baby to have Declan's hair. She is telling Emily she thinks it's better that her baby is with Declan because she doesn't think she could have raised a baby by herself around her parents and that is when Emily's eyes flutter. Charlotte thinks she is imagining it; she has imagined Emily waking from her slumber three times already. The nurses now call her the girl who cried Emily.

It is when Emily languidly blinks that her talking stills and she freezes, still not sure if she is imaging this or not. The blonde in front of her does everything slowly, she is blinking, trying to gauge her surroundings, she is gradually moving her hands, moving her toes; she is checking her body. Emily finally wakes up after over two weeks being in the hospital and the first thing she does is check her body for injuries. Charlotte files that piece of information away in her mind for future musings. She doesn't know if to speak up or wait for Emily to notice her presence; she doesn't want to startle her, but she has missed her so much.

"Emily…?" Charlotte squeaks, Emily lets out a girlish yelp at the sound of the voice and Charlotte breaks into a smile. "I've missed you so much," Charlotte rushes out of her chair to envelope Emily into a hug. The blonde winces in her arms, but she doesn't push her away (she doesn't hug her back either). "Should I call the doctors for you?" She asks pulling away.

"Why am I here?" Emily asks slowly, her eyebrows furrowed. She opens her mouth to ask something else but screws her mouth shut.

"You were shot twice in the abdomen," Charlotte steps back to examine Emily's face. Emily gasps and draws a hand to her mouth, Charlotte frowns. Emily Thorne doesn't gasp, neither does she yelp.

"I was shot?" She repeated in a low voice, her dark eyes wide with fear; Charlotte backs up until she is against the door. Every time Emily does something she cannot place, Charlotte takes a step away.

"I think I'll go get the doctor now," she says before she scrambles into the hallway. "She's awake, she's awake!" She grabs the first nurse she sees roughly and tears spring from her eyes. The nurse gives Charlotte a one over and nods her head; this time they believe her.

"Who's awake?" One asks but Charlotte never answers because she's not sure if the woman in the room is Emily or not.

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Daniel is on his way, so is their mother and Conrad. The doctors and nurses examine Emily extensively and all deem Emily in perfect health; they smiley politely when she answers their questions and even when she draws a blank, they still smile. Twenty-five minutes later they leave her room with talk about MRI's and CAT scans. Two of them approach Charlotte slowly; she doesn't like the expressions they bring on their faces with them. She doesn't like the slow deliberate steps they take or the way they exchange a pointed look.

"You were right, she's awake," one starts then looks to the other for help.

"She has amnesia," the other cuts in dryly, "there was no way for us to tell until she woke up. It was expected after all the trauma she induced from the shots and from the impact with the water."

"Tr-trauma?" Charlotte stutters, she was never good dealing with hospitals.

"Sometimes people like to hide inside of their minds when they undergo trauma as a coping mechanism. The best thing you can do for her is to talk to her like you usually would. She's still the same Emily, she just doesn't know it," the other tries to speak soothingly, "you don't want to set her off into any more of a panic. Right now, you're the only person she knows, you're the first person she woke up to so you're going to be very important in jogging her memory. Make her feel safe, make her feel protected and her memories should resurface." The doctor smiles softly at the younger girl before the two white coats take their leave. Charlotte hastily wipes her eyes and sniffles resoundingly before she makes her way to Emily's side. To the Emily who was there when she was in rehab, who held her hand and listened when she complained about her parents and about the food they served for lunch.

"Hi," Emily offers with a forced smile. _She is still brave, she is still strong, she is still Emily;_ Charlotte is chanting to herself. _She likes to jog in the morning after her morning coffee, she forgets to have lunch on her busy days and she likes to hold Carl in her arms whenever Jack comes over_. She tries to think of other things but draws a blank when Emily's brown eyes look at her curiously.

"Hi, can I come in?" Charlotte almost hopes Emily will say no, but she doesn't. _Emily is gracious, she is polite, she is kind_; Charlotte tells herself, _of course she won't say no_.

"Sure," Emily replies her eyes still probing Charlotte's. Emily's hands are clasped together tightly in her lap and she is wringing them methodically, leaving red marks all over her fingers and knuckles. It looks painful but Charlotte doesn't say anything about it. Emily doesn't seem to notice she does it, and Charlotte wonders if it is an old habit that resurfaced. Something else she files away in her mind.

"I'm Charlotte," the younger girl gives a small awkward wave. She fits into her chair next to Emily's bed like she always does, except this time she's afraid to speak but Emily is sitting up and looking at her as if she had all the answers.

"Are you afraid?" Emily asks the girl, still wringing her hands. Charlotte nods and Emily's chestnut eyes smile sadly, "me too."

There is a pause.

"I'm your sister-in-law," Charlotte contributes, her eyes downcast as she stars at her lap. She wishes her brother and her parents would hurry up, but then again she wishes her parents would never make it to the hospital, especially since this Emily can't defend herself from their subtle attacks. At the thought, Charlotte sits up straight and scoots closer to the hospital bed.

"I'm married…?" Emily asks slowly and her eyes immediately travel to her left hand where a lovely diamond is twinkling at her.

"You're…um," Charlotte stops when she notices Emily's downcast demeanor, "so how are you feeling?"

"What were you going to say?" This Emily is not easily fooled, and she is stubborn, just like the old Emily. The similarities make Charlotte relax in her seat. But this Emily is gentle when she speaks, she is cautious, she is curious; she's not as intense, she's not as calculating, she's not as condescending, she's not as quiet. So the differences between the old Emily and the new one resurface again.

"I don't think I should be the one to tell you, I mean-"

"Did someone die?" Emily's eyes widen and Charlotte looks away because _Emily_ almost died, because her baby almost died.

"You almost died, that's why you can't remember anything," Charlotte says slowly. This Emily is expressive, she's open and she doesn't bother to hide her feelings behind a giant façade, it's more than Charlotte has ever seen from her, "that's why you can't remember being pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Emily shakes her head, "no I can't be pregnant, I was shot in the stomach, the doctors said I was shot. Someone tried to kill me. Someone tried to-"

"Emily," Charlotte is out of her chair and at Emily's side instantly. The blonde is trashing her hands and shaking her head furiously. "Emily please calm down," it is only when Charlotte wraps her hands around the other woman that Emily freezes. "The baby survived, the doctors say it's a miracle baby." Charlotte is rubbing Emily's shoulders up and down in a way she remembers her father doing for her when she was younger. "It will be okay, Emily, don't worry."

But Emily doesn't stop worrying. She is shaking in Charlotte's arms, her breathing is irregular and her heart beat speeds up on the monitor. A nurse takes hasty steps into the room and motions for Charlotte to move away but she doesn't; she won't, not when Emily's at her worst.

"Mrs. Grayson," the nurse calls loudly, but Emily can't hear her. She's lost inside her mind, all the while her heart monitor beeps precariously. "You need to calm down," the nurse repeats, "if you don't we're going to have to inject you with-"

"No!" Charlotte commands, her voice silencing the nurse. Emily already has enough needles inside of her, she already had enough of doctors poking around her insides, she had enough of them poking around her mind. "I won't let you knock her out." The nurse doesn't need to knock Emily out because she faints in Charlotte's arms. The nurse opens her mouth to speak again but Charlotte gives her a fierce glare until she leaves the room. The nurse closes the door behind her and Charlotte sighs heavily.

When her parents and her brother arrive a few minutes later, Charlotte is sitting on the hospital bed, trying to smoothen Emily's curls. She is almost kind of glad Emily fainted, she doesn't want her family to see Emily like this. Not even her brother. Not when he barely visits his hospitalized wife, not when he never steps inside of her room, not when he never bothers to speak to Emily's unconscious figure. She loves them, but she doesn't trust them with Emily or her niece or nephew's life. Emily had always looked out for her, she had always offered her a safe place, so now it was high time Charlotte started repaying her debts.

"The doctors called and said she was awake," Conrad is the first one to speak.

"She panicked so much she fainted," Charlotte admits ruefully.

"She panicked?" Victoria asks prudently, "why would she panic?" Daniel stiffens but he never says a word. His eyes are locked on the tiled floor.

"Because she can't remember anything, she has amnesia," is all Charlotte is willing to say before she turns her attention back to the blonde beside her. She can't imagine what it would have been like if Emily was still awake to be the subject of her mother's disdain and not know why. Of her father's cool disinterest or her brother's sudden aloofness. When the doctors usher her family out of the room to talk about Emily's condition as well as the condition of Emily's plus one in detail, Charlotte declines and volunteers to stay with Emily in case she wakes up again.

She will stay by Emily's side until Emily dismisses her, she decides, because Emily's family is never going to walk into the hospital and whisk her away from the Graysons and their toxic lifestyles. She doesn't have one, so Charlotte vows to be the only family Emily has left.

**.**

**.**

**.**

* * *

**charlotte is going all mama bear in dis joint kids**


End file.
